


Drowned

by Medie



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowned

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "The Second Coming".

_Honey, I'm home._

The words slip playfully through Mohinder's head and, for a moment, he forgets. For a moment, the present slips away. He doesn't see the water-stained ceiling, or the faded flower paper peeling from the walls, or the rickety excuses for furniture. He doesn't even see the teenager steadfastly ignoring him. For a moment, he's free.

He turns with a smile, going to the door. The locks are old, not much protection against the others, but they do the job. He wrests them open, pulling the door open a crack. Matt's wry grin greets him.

Mohinder opens the door the rest of the way, feeling reality crowd back in. Matt's arms are loaded down with paper bags. Mohinder can almost pretend he's just coming home from the market, but the lurid bruising that decorates Matt's face tells another story. "It's bad?"

With a shrug, Matt slips inside. "The usual. A riot and a raid. Don't know which one came first, I didn't stop to ask."

Nodding, Mohinder tips his head in Molly's direction. "She's furious."

"Let her be," says Matt. He lets the bags slide through his fingers, onto the table. "She's alive."

Mohinder nods, but looks at Molly anyway. "She's convinced _he's_ still alive."

"She would know." Matt watches him go back to the door, Mohinder can feel the intensity of his gaze. It was bad out there. He can tell. Despite all the practice he's gotten, Matt's still a terrible liar. "I think."

"The unfortunate practicalities of life with Sylar." With the door secured, Mohinder can turn around. He smiles, though it's grim. "One can never be sure the bastard is truly dead."

They're hiding out in an abandoned apartment building. Made of crumbling brick and rotted wood, it's one strong breeze from collapse, but it serves the purpose. Thus far, no one - on either side - has managed to find them. Though with each trip out for supplies, the certainty of that diminishes.

Mohinder crosses the tiny room in a few quick strides, his fingers tentative as they brush Matt's cheek. The blood isn't quite dry, still tacky to the touch. "It was them, wasn't it?"

"_Mohinder_." Matt's gaze slides to Molly, curled up with her music and a book. Mohinder watches her jab at the mp3 player's controls and scowl. "This is not the time."

Mohinder shakes his head. "She knows better than anyone how dangerous it is out there."

_I know_. Matt's voice is somber. _She keeps me up nights with it._

Something Mohinder knew too. Matt's nightmares were legendary. How much of it was dream and how much was Molly's power at work none of them were sure. None of them _wanted_ to be sure.

Sighing, Mohinder leans into Matt, relieved when Matt's arms slide around him. He lets Matt tug him closer, fitting him against his body. It's terribly self-indulgent and he doesn't give a damn.

Each and every time that Matt disappears out that door, Mohinder knows. It might be the last time. If the police identify him, if _they_ identify him, then it's the end.

Not that it matters. They're only postponing the inevitable.

Matt's lips brush Mohinder's temple, whispering over his skin. "Not if we postpone it long enough. Hiro's still out there. So's Peter."

"We can't change this, Matt." How he wishes that they could. "No one can."

"We did it once." It's rare to hear this from Matt these days. Optimism isn't something that's in abundance. Mohinder's surprised to hear it. Surprised and somewhat worried all the same. "Sometimes -- " _She deserves better than this._

Ah. So that would be where this is coming from. The reason Matt had ventured out in the first place.

Mohinder nods, fingers rubbing the worn fabric of Matt's shirt. "She deserves a better birthday than this." He's not much of an expert on the American teenage girl, but he is certain of this. Molly's sweet sixteenth should involve cake, presents, a party, all her friends and family gathered round for smiles and embarrassing stories.

Not holed up in a ramshackle apartment waiting for the world to end.

Mohinder's never felt like such a failure.

"You and me both, babe," sighs Matt, "you and me both."


End file.
